MY NAME IS CHIP. WEIRD SHIT JUST SORTA HAPPENS TO ME. THIS IS A SOME OF THAT SHIT.
I signed up for the Army right after high school but my reporting date wasn’t until November so I had a few months to kill. I got a few jobs to make some quick loot and because my dad wouldn’t let me just dick around the house all day riding my skateboard.
More Craigslist bait… Here I’m trying to sell a scale to a “skinny chick.”
To be 100% clear on these posts… I’m joking on these exchanges. It is PURELY for comedys sake. I don’t think 100 pounds is fat. 110 pounds is obviously fat.
Soccer is amazing. I have always been one of the typical American nay-sayers, but no longer my friends. I am hoooooked. Can’t get me enough futbol. Did you guys catch that World Cup? Oh my. That soccer is one mesmerizing, inspiring, absurd little sport.
It’s been just over two years since I’ve made the move from my roots on the near south side of Chicago, a neighborhood called Bridgeport, to the trendy northwest side area called Bucktown. I’ve always loved where I grew up but seeing that I do stand-up a few times a week and all of the showcase rooms and open mics are up north, it only made sense for me to move closer to the action. And while much is made of the great dichotomy between these two city halves, they’re not that different. Not now in 2006. You want to hit a great restaurant? Hit either side. Baseball fan? Either or. Blues music? Both. Irish bars? Shit, you can go east and find an Irish bar. Beautiful parks? Condo for a half-mil.? Starbucks? Head either direction from downtown. There really wasn’t that much I had to get used to when I moved up north. Except the names. You just can’t find a Gerks in Bucktown.
January 31, 2012
Chip
chipwrecks 